


Rolling Boy

by MonochromeMog



Series: Vocaloid Songs Inspired Fanfics [13]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anxiety, Asshole teachers, Bullied Sam, Bullying, Castiel is in it for like one second, Dark, Dean's dead, Death, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, Hurt Sam, Insecure Sam, PTSD, Rolling Boy, Suicide, Vocaloid Inspired, sam centric, triggering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-17
Updated: 2016-06-17
Packaged: 2018-07-15 16:45:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7230529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MonochromeMog/pseuds/MonochromeMog
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"One more time, one more time... Let me roll for another day..." </p><p>"The more you wait Sammy, the more painful it will be."</p><p>*WARNINGS INSIDE.*</p><p>*Artwork has been added.*</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One More Time

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: Suicide, Insecurities, Anxiety, PTSD, Character Death, Depression,
> 
> This is not a happy fic, if any of the warnings above are triggering for you, then please do not read or proceed with caution.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own SPN or its characters. This is a fic inspired by the Vocaloid song called Rolling Girl. There will be a link to the Vocaloid Wiki to know more about the song at the end.

"One more time, one more time... Let me roll for another day.." 

"The more you wait, Sammy, the more painful this will be..." 

"Can you give me more time, De?" 

A sigh. 

"Yeah, of course..." 

"I won't let you down..." 

"Of course you won't. You're a smart kid, Sammy." 

"Thank you, De." 


	2. Stop Breathing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "How about now? OK, you can look. You must be exhausted too, right?
> 
> Stop breathing, now." - Rolling Girl

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Suicide and depressing themes in this chapter, proceed with extreme caution.

Sam Winchester was a lonely boy. A 12 year old who sat in the corner in classrooms, farthest from the front and away from prying eyes. He was a quiet child, rarely spoke, always kept his head down focusing on school work or the firm floor beneath him. Even so, Sam had outstanding grades and excelled in most classes. Teachers adored him, some understood he didn't want attention drawn to him and left him alone, however there were nasty teachers who found it fun to ask him questions in front of the class. He had a loving father and good neighbors. Outside, it seemed like Sam had a pretty good life. 

Outside being the operative word. 

In truth, Sam struggled with depression, anxiety, PTSD and insecurities. Sam was bullied every day of every hour at school by the people he should call his 'classmates.' He didn't call them that; in his eyes, they were his enemies. Enemies that could and will succeed in crumbling his defensive walls. 

Sam has had PTSD and anxiety ever since he was in a car crash, a car crash where his brother, Dean, didn't make it out alive. He and Dean were close for brothers, so in result Dean's death really tore him a part. Maybe in ways it shouldn't, but Sam couldn't help but bawl every time Dean was mentioned or he saw a photo of his late brother. Dean was 15 when he died, Sam's birthday was the next day and Dean decided to travel to a cabin to camp for the weekend. He decided it would be a memorable experience for the 11 year old. 

It was, just not in the way Dean had expected. 

Dean had put an arm out in front of Sam in a futile attempt to keep him from being injured as the semi crashed into them. When Sam woke up, he was met with a hospital and his dad, John, sitting beside him with tear tracks on his cheeks. Sam didn't know why he was crying; he wasn't dead and Dean wouldn't be dead either, right? 

How wrong Sam was. 

Dean had died at 3:09 PM. 

Sam had woken up at 3:11 PM. 

3 seconds after Dean had died, Sam had awoken. 

Sam wasn't even allowed to say goodbye to his brother. John wouldn't allow him to see the body, scared in case it would traumatize Sam even more than the event already had. The result was the opposite though. Sam was haunted every night by images of what he thought Dean's corpse looked like. He had nightmares of Dean blaming him for the crash. 

'If you didn't have a birthday, I would be alive...'

'If you didn't like camping so much, I would still be working for my dream.' 

'Why couldn't you die instead? I'm the one who works hard...' 

Sam had promised to work hard from then on out. His grades improved tremendously. The only problem was the sleepless nights he spent studying. The long hours of hardly any sleep seemed to make him more irritable and his anxiety to spike. He didn't care though; he would reach his dreams if it killed him. 

He wanted to be a lawyer. He didn't want to be the best lawyer in the whole world, but he just wanted to well known for his work. He wanted to help people who were hurt by someone else's actions. 

Just like he was. 

 

"Sam Winchester, can I speak to you for a moment?" 

Sam flinched violently as the teacher softly called his name. The students who were leaving, snapped their attention to the trembling boy. They shrugged before continuing out the classroom, shoulders slumped in a nonchalant way. 

"Yes, miss?" 

Sam stammered, his anxious hazel gaze fixated on the scarred mahogany desk in front of him. The teacher had stood to go over to his desk and slipped a white crisp sheet of paper over into Sam's line of view. It was Sam's last assignment; write about your dream job. Sam glanced up towards the top of the page to see a big A+ in the right corner. Miss Poseidon's chicken scratch hand writing underneath saying, 'well done! A excellent view into a court's mechanics!' 

"I wanted to ask you about this. You're not in trouble, don't worry." 

Miss Poseidon leaned against Sam's desk, arms folded. Her wrinkly face set into a kind smile. 

"I was wondering, why would you like to be a lawyer where you clearly have a gift in writing? It's a waste of talent, if you ask me." 

Sam shrugged lamely. 

"I don't know, I don't... Have an interest in writing honestly." 

When Sam spoke, it was barely above a whisper. Miss Poseidon had to lean forward slightly just to hear what Sam was saying. 

"Sam, you and I both know that you can't become a lawyer." 

"W-what?" 

Sam looked up at the old teacher with wide eyes, tears were gathering at the corners and his skin became deathly pale at her statement.

"Look at you, you can't even look up at me without stuttering and crying. How can you expect to be a lawyer? Especially since you have PTSD and anxiety. You think a firm would hire someone who can't look at the judge or victims or the suspect?" 

"B-But..." 

"Listen, Sam. I'm not saying this to be cruel. I'm only telling you the harsh reality of it. Your father has neglected to tell you about it. You probably won't even be able to become a writer. You would probably end up in a psychiatric ward." 

Sam looked down at the desk, white knuckling his satchel that was on his shoulder. A lump formed in his throat and it suddenly became too difficult to breathe. The room was getting smaller and the figure of the teacher was getting blurry. The teacher sighed softly, shaking her head dismissively. 

"Run along then. See you tomorrow..." 

It took a long time for Sam to move, but when he did, his steps were heavy and he felt like more weight was added to his already aching shoulders. 

The bathroom; the bathroom was safe. 

Sam slammed the stall door shut, his back meeting with it immediately after. Tears were running down his face and he was panting. He curled in towards himself, feeling small all of a sudden. 

"Sammy, I told you, this would get more painful..." 

"De..." 

Sam looked up and saw Dean sitting on the toilet seat, brows furrowed in concern. Sam wondered why he didn't have blood covering him. Maybe John arranged for his body to be cleaned before lowering him down into his early grave. 

"Come here..." 

Dean spread his arms wide in a offer for a hug. Sam shook his head, it was tempting, but he knew if he touched Dean, he would also die. He wasn't going to die until he fulfilled his promise to Dean. 

"Sammy, come on... Aren't you getting exhausted of doing this?" 

Sam blinked up at him in confusion. 

"Of doing what?" 

"Going to school every day only to get hurt. Getting up every morning only to realize you'll be met with depression. Going through the day with all those disorders and knowing no one understands you. Isn't that painful? Aren't you getting tired of it?" 

Sam wasn't getting tired of it, per se, he was getting sick of it. He grew frustrated every time a enemy would push him into one of the steel lockers or when one of them would knock his books out of his hands. He got used to the names they all called him, they didn't affect him as much as they use to. He didn't know if it was bad or good that he has gotten use to the name calling. 

"No, De... I'm sick of it." 

"Then why don't you come with me, Sammy? You have your own Heaven. I'll be with you, it will be like the car crash never happened. Please, Sammy..." 

Sam will not break his promise.

"But, De... I need to keep my promise to you." 

Sam will not break his promise.

"Truthfully, Sammy? I'm getting sick of seeing you get tormneted because you're a smart ass." 

Sam will not break his promise. 

"Nothing is worth seeing you crumble. You want to stay on this Earth? After what that bitch said to you?" 

Sam will not break... 

"She basically said you were stupid, Sam." 

Sam will not break...

"Why would you want to live in a world where teachers act like that?"

Sam will not... 

"Come on, Sammy... Join me in Heaven. We can go to the camping trip we were suppose to go on before everything got messed up." 

Sam will... 

"Sammy please..." 

Sam... 

Sam can't do this anymore. 

With crystal tears of sadness dropping from his bruised cheeks, Sam thrown himself towards Dean, wrapping his skinny arms around him and burying his head in the phantasmagoria's sturdy chest. Dean brought a hand up to Sam's head, cradling him as the small boy let out wrecked sobs. 

"It's okay, Sammy..." 

No, it's really not. 

"It'll be okay..." 

No, it won't. 

"Stop breathing, Sammy..." 

Okay, Dean... 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! ^^


	3. Report

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "12 year old Sam Winchester was found dead..."

"12 year old, Sam Winchester was found dead in the boys bathroom in Roswell High school at 12:00 PM today. The scene suggests a suicide took place. The young boy was found in the toilet, the toilet seat closed and a belt wrapped around his neck. Detectives say he died by lack of air. Police are now questioning English teacher Carrie Poseidon, who taught Winchester and claimed to have said inappropriate things to the young boy. 

"Sam Winchester suffered from mental disorders, including anxiety, PTSD and depression due to the death of his older brother a year prior. Reports have said he had been hallucinating his older brother for a while now and has never been treated for his mental state. 

"This was Castiel Novak, Fox News. Thank you for listening." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Have a nice day.

**Author's Note:**

> Link to Wiki- http://vocaloid.wikia.com/wiki/%E3%83%AD%E3%83%BC%E3%83%AA%E3%83%B3%E3%82%AC%E3%83%BC%E3%83%AB_(Rolling_Girl)
> 
> Thank you for reading! ^^


End file.
